


Bad Behaviour

by Lanyonn



Series: Bad Universe [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Cheating, Gay Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Romance, Smut, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-01 05:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6502108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanyonn/pseuds/Lanyonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, Arthur meets Eames. After that, it is pretty much a train wreck waiting to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

 

**_i_ **

 

Arthur makes his way to the overcrowded bar and tries to catch the bartender’s attention. He is neutral about crowds until he is forced to make his way through them. It changes his mind about what he is going to order. Cocktails are not going to cut it anymore. He definitely needs some whiskey to get him through the night.

 

“Darling,” a man’s voice brushes his ear, sounding like too many cigarettes and yet too patient for a crowd, “let me buy you a drink.” A hand squeezes his butt and then slides up the curve before closing itself over his hip. Arthur needs his drink right _fucking_ now.

 

He snaps his head to the side to tell off whatever drunken lecher has decided to paw at his ass. He is not at a gay club but he has spent the better part of the evening drinking and making out with Mikael till the Cobbs and Ariadne joined them here. He has received more than a few interested looks throughout the evening but no one had dared to touch him so blatantly yet. Arthur knows he is good looking but he also looks much too severe to be on the receiving end of unwarranted groping.

 

However, the sharp words die in his throat as he is greeted with pale blue eyes and plush lips smiling engagingly at him. Okay, so Arthur has already had a few too many cocktails and he should have taken Mikael’s advice and not gone to get more because he has an insane urge to press his own mouth against those insanely kissable lips.

 

Arthur knows the guy by sight – he is gay and a regular at the club as well. The first time Arthur saw him, he had been checking Arthur out from afar. Arthur had drawn to his intense gaze against his will. It had been near impossible to look away every time he met his eyes. However, Arthur was a committed man and he had never acted on those feelings. Every time he had seen the other man, he had been here with a different guy, so Arthur assumes that unlike him, the stranger is free to make a move.

 

Slowly, Arthur realises that he is, indeed, pleased that the other man has finally made a move. _This is not good_ , the small rational part of his mind worries, _this is not good at all. In fact, it is frankly a bad thing._

 

He groans and tries to pull away but there isn’t much space to shift around. The hold around his waist relaxes and the blue-eyed stranger leans forward over the bar. Soon, the bartender makes a beeline in their direction. “Eames,” the bartender greets the pervert next to Arthur. “The usual today?” he asks, barely sparing Arthur a look.

 

“Blake, love, hello,” Eames says, turning his charming smile towards the bartender. “I think I’m feeling adventurous tonight so I will try your special Negroni and my beautiful companion here would like…”

 

“A whiskey,” Arthur tells Eames, his eyes fixed on Eames’ visage, unaware of the jealous glare Blake casts his way. “And I’m Arthur,” he adds as he stares into Eames’ eyes as he glances at him.

 

“Your best bourbon,” Eames finishes with a dazzling smile, “for _Arthur_ here.” As Blake goes to get their drinks, Eames pulls Arthur closer against his side and speaks into his ear. “You look a little tipsy, darling, you should stay with me. I’ll take good care of you.”

 

Arthur’s gaze flickers over Eames’ strong nose, the smooth clean shaven cheeks and the lips prompting more and more obscene thoughts in his head every second. “I’m fine,” he scowls at his lips but makes no move to back away from the obvious bulk of muscles underneath Eames’ dark red shirt and black jeans. The cologne wafting off him is unfamiliar and makes him heady. “It’s just bloody hard to get drinks,” he adds, making no sense even in his head and is completely fixated on Eames’ strong jaw and muscular neck.

 

He doesn’t register what Eames replies but once the whiskey is in his hand, Arthur recalls that his boyfriend and friends must be waiting for him. He tears himself away from Eames and it is easy to lose him in the crowd near the bar as he rushes back towards his table.

 

Mikael is still deep in conversation with Dom when Arthur returns to their booth. Mal is chatting with a guy who must have joined them after Arthur left to buy his drink. He doesn’t recognise him. Ariadne is slumped over the table, head buried in her arms. Arthur kisses Mikael’s neck, distracting him for a moment.

 

“Babe,” says Mikael, looking disapprovingly at his drink, “I told you that you mustn’t. You’re not going to be able to keep it down.”

 

However, before Arthur can club together more than a sound of indignation, a warm body slides into the booth next to his.

 

“ _Arthur_ , you dropped your phone, love,” says Eames as Arthur feels irrationally warm under the collars even though he hasn’t had a sip of his _bourbon_ yet. Arthur looks dumbly at the iPhone Eames places on the table in front of him and recognises it as his own, indeed, in its customised Japanese art case. He gives Arthur a fond smile when Arthur glances at him and then turns to meet the company who is looking curiously at him. “You must be Arthur’s friends and ah, Dom, of course.” Arthur glances at Dom in some surprise and then back at Eames, who is exchanging pleasantries with the rest of the people at the table now. Ariadne pulls herself out of her drunken stupor and squints at Eames.

 

Soon, Eames is one of them, his hand resting inconspicuously on the small of Arthur’s back as he talks across him to Mikael and Dom. Arthur cannot remove it without letting the entire table know that it is there.

 

Arthur takes a sip from his glass and wrinkles his nose. He had forgotten he didn’t like the way whiskey tasted, not even the best of them. He glances towards Eames’ beautiful orange-red drink and picks up the other glass instead. The first sip bursts bitter in his mouth but Arthur can’t stop. So he decides that he will just pretend that Eames bought him the Negroni instead of the _bourbon_. Eames looks too busy laughing and chatting to even notice the switching of drinks anyway. Arthur gets quieter as he gets drunker. So he settles for throwing occasional glances at Eames’ animated face and relaxes into his body beside him.

 

After a while, he notices the glass of whiskey in Eames’ hand and the very next moment, he catches Eames’ eye who gives him an amused secret look. Arthur is just finishing with the cocktail.

 

“What,” Arthur frowns at him, holding the cocktail protectively.

 

Eames smirks harder, rubs his lower spine and settles his arm around Arthur’s waist. Arthur looks away. Mikael has got into an argument with Mal’s friend over the war in Middle East and is completely oblivious of Eames’ designs on Arthur. Arthur takes another sip of the stomach churning bitter drink.

 

“Mikael,” says Eames suddenly, while Arthur is engaged in a staring contest with Ariadne, “can I borrow Arthur for a dance?”

 

Ariadne snorts, loses the staring contest and rubs her nose. Arthur frowns at Eames. “I don’t dance,” he tells him and then looks at Mikael who has either not noticed Eames’ around him _still_ or doesn’t think that it is a big deal. Knowing Mikael, it is probably the latter. Arthur is the possessive half of the couple. Mikael complains sometimes that he is too serious. _Well, sorry for acting like we’re in a committed relationship like I am supposed to_ , Arthur grumbles in his head but never says out loud. He is also the more diplomatic half.

 

“Of course not,” Mikael says cheerily and Arthur rolls his eyes as he winks at him. “If you can actually get him to dance, tell me what tricks you used,” he jokes and kisses Arthur’s lips. “Go on, babe,” he urges him. Arthur sighs in exasperation and pushes at Eames who quickly moves out. Ariadne gives him a knowing grin and a thumbs-up as leaves. Arthur makes a face at her.

 

They lose sight of their table as they head towards the dance floor. As Arthur is engulfed by the growing surge of bodies and music, his head swimming in alcohol, he almost begins to believe that he is here with Eames alone, free to give in to any urges that have started welling up in him ever since he first set his eyes on Eames. In his inebriated state, it is hard to feel guilty about it, too. It is easy to stop thinking about Mikael and focus solely on Eames and Eames’ bulkier body, tight ass and thighs, and there’s just something about Eames that has Arthur hungering for him – _animal attraction_ , he thinks to himself. It has been there from the first day he set his eyes on Eames, growing in degrees, until Eames finally couldn’t help himself and came and sought him out.

 

He puts a hand on Eames’ arm and looks at him.

 

“I really don’t dance,” he tries to yell over the din of the music, sways a little on his feet and presses closer to Eames who immediately places both hands on his hips. They are standing still among a sea of bodies and the music is too loud, Arthur can feel it shaking his insides and making his hair stand on end.

 

“You dance,” Eames puts his mouth to Arthur’s ear and starts moving to the beat. “When you are with me, you dance.”

 

It’s not so much dancing as frottage is what Arthur wants to say as Eames’ body rubs up against his, chest to chest, stomach to stomach. Eames is straddling Arthur’s thigh, his groin heavy and close to Arthur’s. However, Arthur’s tongue lies heavy and useless in his mouth. The salacious pressure between their bodies finally tips him over the edge. Arthur’s hands wander over Eames’ body underneath his black jacket. The hard planes of his muscled body are maddening and inviting under Arthur’s fingers.

 

Arthur feels wet tongue against his neck and pushes away from Eames.

 

A sly drunken grin on his face, Arthur moves his body to the music and holds Eames’ gaze as he runs a hand down his body, turns and presents his back to Eames. Laughing when Eames presses up against him on cue, Arthur wastes no time rubbing his ass over Eames’ shameless bulge. He takes Eames’ hand and places it low over his stomach as he continues to grind against him. Eames slips his fingers underneath Arthur’s shirt, stroking his taut muscles but going down no further. He laughs as Arthur whimpers in need. He bites his jaw and ruts against his ass but refuses to touch Arthur where he needs him to.

 

Their movements grow faster and more urgent. Eames turns Arthur around again to face himself and Arthur puts his arms around Eames’ neck, his eyes filled with lust as he looks at Eames. Eames cups his ass as they keep moving. Arthur wants to tell Eames how badly he needs to fuck him when another body presses into Arthur’s back from behind.

 

“Baby, I’m jealous,” Mikael’s deep voice speaks into his ear as his familiar sinewy arm wraps around Arthur’s waist. “I thought you never danced.”

 

Arthur is so shocked that it almost pulls him out of his pleasantly drunken state. Eames is now looking at Mikael behind him with a smirk and when Arthur tries to pull his arms away from Eames’ neck, Eames squeezes his ass and grinds their crotches together.

 

“Arthur is a wonderful dancer,” Eames yells out over the music and Mikael’s laugh fills Arthur’s ear. Arthur’s heart is beating wildly in his chest, his arousal in overdrive with Mikael rubbing into his ass and Eames on the front. He isn’t sure if this real or if he is dreaming after passing out on the overdose of alcohol.

 

Mikael says something about moving to a more private place and Arthur is thinking _holy shit, holy shit_ over and over because as far as he can tell, Mikael means for them to have a threesome – with _Eames_.


	2. Two

 

 

Arthur has a moment of indecision as the door closes behind the three of them.

 

“Mike,” he says, feeling unnaturally vulnerable now that there is no longer any crowd or music to make everything seem like harmless fun. Eames is undressing, tossing his clothes aside with no care. Arthur feels unnerved as more and more of his naked skin is revealed. He had craved it so hard, he isn’t sure he will be able to tone down his longing for him.

 

Mikael cups Arthur’s cheek and kisses his lips soundly.

 

“Come on, babe, you’ll love it, I promise,” he says as he starts to remove Arthur’s clothes. “Your body is willing enough.” He grins and cups Arthur’s crotch, giving it a squeeze before tugging down his pants.

 

Arthur’s head is in a whirl and it isn’t all because of the alcohol. He had been thinking about fucking Eames so hard that it has somehow become a reality – and Mikael approves of everything and is involved in it with him, too. He doesn’t doubt the reality of it anymore, not with the cold hotel room floor under his feet and the dim lights revealing the plethora of tattoos underneath Eames’ clothes.

 

And Mikael is right – Arthur might be overwhelmed by the suddenness of the situation but he is still much too aroused to say no to this.

 

He tugs back Mikael’s head by his ash blonde hair and kisses him hard. Mikael walks them back towards the bed as they keep kissing, passionate and open-mouthed, touching tongues and exploring deeper.  Arthur breaks away when he feels a broad hand on his ass. Mikael falls back onto the starch white sheets and moves to lie on his back. He strokes his half-hard cock a few times as Eames runs one hand down Arthur’s body and massages his ass with the other.

 

If Arthur’s blood wasn’t filled with so much alcohol, he is sure he would have come just from Eames feeling him up while Mikael watched them with a dark, approving look. It is hot. It is incredibly hot.

 

Arthur turns and holds Eames roughly by his neck as he finally gives in to the mad urge he has had to kiss him ever since he first saw him. Eames’ lips are soft and thick and kissing him is completely different from kissing Mikael. He sucks on his plump lips hard, tasting and licking and biting them as Eames takes hold of his cock. He moans and opens up more as Eames pushes his tongue inside Arthur’s mouth. Eames thumbs at the tip of his cock as he kisses him lewdly and then they pull back, sucking in deep breaths.

 

Eames is no longer grinning as if everything is a big comedy to him. He looks hot and ferocious, licks his lower lip where Arthur bit him hard enough to draw blood and he rubs a finger over Arthur’s hole before guiding him onto bed on top of Mikael.

 

“Arthur has a skilled mouth,” says Mikael as Arthur removes Mikael’s hand from his cock and kneels between his parted legs. “And he loves a tongue on his ass.”

 

“Fuck you, Mike,” Arthur groans as he pushes Mikael’s thigh more to the side and mouths at his sac. The smell of Mikael’s sex fills his senses as Eames lifts up his ass and pulls the cheeks apart. He feels calloused fingers stroke the valley in the middle of his butt a few times before a broad fingertip presses over his puckered hole. He tries to relax the sphincter and Eames eases a wet finger inside his ass. Arthur licks and sucks over Mikael’s cock harder as he wills himself to relax and open up for Eames. The feeling of vulnerability hits him yet again and he wants to tear himself away from the situation and run away despite being more aroused than he has ever been in his life.

 

“It’s true!” Mikael laughs at him, taking hold of his hair as he pulls back Mikael’s foreskin and sucks the head of his uncut cock while he pumps his length. “The dirtier it gets, the more you love it.”

 

Arthur cries out as he feels Eames’ tongue on his sensitive hole and squeezes Mikael’s cock much too hard for a moment. His butt cheeks are clutched tightly as Eames holds them apart. Arthur pauses for a few moments as he allows himself to revel in the maddening feel of a warm smooth muscle tracing his entrance and then seeking its way inside, pressing along his walls. His thighs are clenched hard and he can feel every touch of Eames’ tongue down to his toes.

 

When Eames comes up for air, Arthur takes Mikael’s cock inside his mouth. He tries to concentrate on blowing Mikael, despite the intense sensations shooting down his nerves as Eames’ fingers ease him open further and then his tongue digs in again, going even deeper this time, following them.

 

“Look at how hard you are sucking me off,” Mikael says, “you’ve never sucked me off like this before – I knew it would be even better if you had someone eating your ass, babe.” And even though Arthur has his eyes closed and he is fingering Mikael’s sac and pumping and licking and sucking on Mikael’s cock with wild abandon, Arthur knows that Mikael’s eyes are fixed on Eames. It gets him off even more than Arthur and he grips Arthur’s hair harder, keeps his head steady as he thrusts up his hips, pushing his cock deeper inside Arthur’s mouth till he hits the back of his throat.

 

Arthur clenches his ass around Eames’ tongue and fingers as his gag reflex kicks in. Eames rubs one of his butt cheeks and gives it a tight squeeze. Arthur relaxes the ring of muscles again and moans around Mikael’s cock as he tries to take in his member as deep as it would go into his throat. Mikael is reduced to encouraging expletives and only pulls back once some tell-tale precum has trickled down Arthur’s throat. Arthur pulls away, gasping for air and coughing a little.

 

Mikael pulls him up for a kiss and Arthur aches with the loss of Eames’ tongue and fingers on his ass. He grasps onto Mikael’s shoulders as they kiss hard, teeth clashing; lets Mikael have a taste of himself. “Fuck him,” Mikael tells Eames over Arthur’s shoulder when the kiss breaks. A cold shiver runs down Arthur’s spine. “I want to watch you fuck him as he fucks me.”

 

The unease rears its head again and Arthur kisses Mikael’s neck as he holds on to his body. He wants to ask Mikael if he is absolutely sure about this, but really, he has never heard Mikael sound so completely certain of something. The commanding tone is nothing new but Mikael sounds much hotter when he is giving out orders to someone else other than Arthur. Of course, Arthur wants to get fucked by Eames but things are already moving too fast for him and he is scared.

 

“That alright with you, darling?” asks Eames. Arthur can hear the gentleness in his voice and it calms his nerves a little. Eames strokes the side of his thigh as he speaks.

 

Arthur looks at Mikael who pumps Arthur’s neglected cock a few times and grins at him.

 

Arthur glances back and meets Eames’ eyes shining a keen blue as he looks back at him, hungry but controlled. “Show me what you’ve got, Mr Eames,” he says, feeling like he is passing some point of no return.

 

They let Arthur set the pace next. Once Arthur has worked open Mikael’s ass and eased his cock inside, he stays still and tells Eames to get inside him.

 

Eames makes a quip about tasting him twice and holds his waist as he pushes his thick cock inside Arthur’s ass. Arthur lets out a string of expletives as his passage stretches out to receive the intrusion. It sets his nerves on fire with his own cock snug inside Mikael’s tight ass. His pelvis feels full and constricted at the same time, an overabundance of sensations that takes time getting used to.

 

“Fun, huh?” Mikael kisses his shoulder and Arthur feels out of control because he knows Mikael is fixated more on watching Eames fuck his hole than on Arthur fucking him. He buries his face into the pillow next to Mikael’s head and tells Eames to start moving slowly.

 

Eames is terribly in control for a guy who felt up his ass by way of greeting the first time they talked to each other. He fucks Arthur sweet and slow, his fingers holding Arthur’s hips steady in a bruising grip to keep Arthur from writhing underneath him. Arthur starts moving his pelvis in a matching rhythm, pulling out his cock halfway as he thrusts back towards Eames and then ramming inside Mikael’s tight warmth as Eames pulls back. After a few thrusts, his hips work of their own accord, his mind far too gone to be putting any conscious thought into it anymore. Mikael holds his neck and rubs his leg with his foot as the pace of their movements increases and Arthur pushes his face into the pillow next to Mikael’s head, throaty groans escaping him as Eames’ cock finds the crazy spot over his prostate.

 

 “You’re doing good,” Mikael murmurs hoarsely into his ear, close to his own orgasm, “you’re doing really good, baby.”

 

Arthur fucks Mikael harder, the familiar rhythm feeling like something that he has never done before because of Eames’ cock taking him at the same time. It feels like he is having sex for the first time – all his sensations are heightened and he doesn’t know what to expect next. He reaches down between his body and his boyfriend’s to take hold of Mikael’s cock as he feels close to his own edge. He won’t be able to hold back anymore, he absolutely won’t.

 

Arthur comes first in a frenzy of nerves and his walls cramp around Eames’ thick cock inside him as he fucks and strokes Mikael erratically. Eames rubs his hole where it is stretched out where his cock enters him and Arthur hits his orgasm with an animal cry, his climax shaking throughout his body. Mikael’s hand comes up around Arthur’s over his own cock and he makes him stroke him harder and harder till he has come but all Arthur is thinking is of Eames still inside him and how he pulls back Arthur’s hips and keeps himself buried inside him as he must be filling up his own rubber.

 

“Don’t move me,” Arthur says drunkenly once he returns from the bathroom, gait unsteady, and collapses beside Mikael. “I’m dead.”

 

“Trust me, love,” Eames speaks from behind him, “this is nothing compared to what you’ll feel like tomorrow because you stole my drink.” Mikael laughs and kisses Arthur’s sweaty forehead before letting his eyes fall shut.

 

When Eames returns from his own trip to the washroom, Arthur lifts his head and turns just enough so that he is able to meet Eames’ eyes. Eames gets into the bed next to him and gives Arthur a fond smile before turning off the lamp.

 

For a man as exhausted and drunk as he is, Arthur lays wide awake for long after Mikael’s soft snores fill the room. He has his eyes closed but he cannot go to sleep. He is a little dizzy and holds onto Mikael’s arm around his waist. However, he is terribly aware of Eames’ body on the other side of him and just cannot relax enough to fall asleep.

 

Finally, he turns his head to the right again and looks straight into Eames’ pale eyes, glinting points in the darkness.

 

 _This is not good_ , Arthur thinks again as the nervousness flutters up in his chest. _This is not good at all._

 

But no matter what he is thinking, Arthur cannot help tilting his head in Eames’ direction. He shuts his eyes as he presses their mouths together, his throat feeling raw and tight as Eames kisses him back slowly, warm touches of lips alone, trembling, caressing, and unstoppable. Their breaths mingle as Arthur touches his forehead to Eames’ and Eames kisses him one more time before Arthur can finally relax enough to give in to the dire need for sleep.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uploading two chapters at a time (just in case you missed no. 2 before)

 

**_iii_ **

 

 

When Arthur meets Ariadne for their customary Sunday lunch together, his story of the previous night overshadows her excited confession that she is going to Los Angeles alone with Cobb for the conference next week. Ariadne has the most hopeless crush on Dom Cobb despite of him being a married man madly in love with his wife. She forgets about it all for some moments though and stares at Arthur open-mouthed when he gives her an overview of his sexual escapade.

 

“Are you sure you didn’t dream up all of that?” she asks him again.

 

Arthur gives her a wry smile and butters his scone. “I woke up in a strange hotel room this morning and Mikael mentioned that he enjoyed himself quite a bit last night – that we should get ‘adventurous’ more often. So, yeah, I’m pretty certain of everything.”

 

Ariadne slumps back in her seat. “Wow, you’re for real!”

 

“What? Do you really think that I can make up something like this?”

 

Ariadne takes a bite of her banana bread. “ _Maybe_ – you were looking pretty hung up on Eames last night. Maybe you thought up a fantasy and now you’re fooling me with it.”

 

Arthur gives her a nasty look and sips his iced tea. “I wasn’t hung up on Eames. A joke like that is something that you’d pull, not me.”

 

“So,” replies Ariadne, unperturbed by Arthur’s accusations, “this sort of thing is going to be a regular thing with you and Mike now? Wow, I never thought there’d be a day when I envied _your_ relationship!”

 

Arthur might have been drunk and he might still have some residual headache from his binge drinking last night but he recalls how nervous and vulnerable he had been despite of being unbearably aroused. Was he ready for a repeat of the same? Eames had been a stranger to both him and Mikael. What if Mikael wanted them to sleep with one of his friends, or God forbid, with one of his ex-boyfriends? Arthur hasn’t dated anyone seriously before Mikael came along.

 

Arthur hasn’t had a man other than Mikael on his mind for a long time now.

 

He evades Ariadne’s shameless demands for more details, his ass quivering with the memory of Eames’ ministrations and his chest feeling a little tight at their kisses. There was definitely more than one reason for Arthur not wanting a repeat performance of the previous night.

 

When Arthur returns home, Mikael is done packing up for his overseas trip to Japan. Mikael works in robotics and doesn’t travel for work often. However, when he needs to go, his absences are long – he will be gone for an entire month this time.

 

“I’ll miss you,” says Arthur as Mikael takes him in his arms and they make out in the living room until it is time for Mikael to leave.

 

“It will be hard thinking of how hot you were last night and not being able to fuck you, babe,” Mikael grins and presses Arthur against the door.

 

Arthur cannot help thinking of Eames’ naked body and the imprints his hold had left on Arthur’s ass and hips. Arthur is not narcissistic but he spent a long time in the bathroom that morning, standing in front of the full length mirror and examining his body for every bruise and bite left on his body by Eames. There is even a flaming teeth mark on his left gluteus. Arthur has no memory of that but he knows it must have been left by Eames. 

 

“Go,” Arthur pushes Mikael and gets the door for him, tries to push away thoughts of Eames at the same time. “Your boss is going to have more reasons to dislike me if she finds out you missed your flight because of me.”

 

Mikael kisses him one more time before heading towards his car. He has been inordinately pleased about Arthur getting fucked by another guy in front of him. Mikael is thirty eight and over ten years older than Arthur. He is far more experienced than Arthur and they had slept together casually for a couple of years before Arthur had confessed his feelings for Mikael. It had seemed like a miracle when Mikael had agreed to enter into an exclusive relationship with him. However, a few months later, Mikael had casually mentioned opening their relationship which had almost caused them to break up.

 

Despite his instincts and Ariadne’s advice, Arthur had grudgingly agreed to let it stay at shared threesomes and orgies. However, more than a year had passed since then and once they had made up, Mikael hadn’t brought up the topic again. He would mention a threesome casually once in a while but laugh when Arthur agreed seriously. Last night had been a complete surprise and the sex with Eames wasn’t how Arthur had envisioned a threesome. He had imagined it would involve more of him, Arthur, being secretly jealous while Mikael had the time of his life.

 

However, what had happened yesterday was Mikael getting incredibly turned on watching Arthur being pleasured by a complete stranger. Is this what people meant when they talked about kinks? If so, then Arthur didn’t know Mikael had that sort of kink. Arthur cannot imagine how it feels. He would be too wrought with jealousy to enjoy anything if Mikael had another guy focussed on him while they were trying to have sex.

 

In fact, being on the receiving end of dual attention in the threesome hasn’t been the most fulfilling experience for Arthur surprisingly. Oh, Eames was amazing. And he had wanted Eames so bad, it couldn’t be anything but mind-blowing. But in the cold daylight and with no prospect of meeting Eames again, Arthur feels guilty for enjoying himself as much as he did. Even if Mikael has been all over him and reiterating his satisfaction with the whole situation, Arthur cannot help feeling like he has cheated on Mikael somehow. It makes him a little nauseous. He shuts off the thoughts and throws himself into his work. It is Sunday night but Arthur doesn’t have anything else except work which will drive away the crazy thoughts from his head.

 

When his phone rings a couple of hours later, Arthur is startled to read ‘Eames calling’ on the screen. He doesn’t recall asking Eames for his number.

 

“Darling,” says Eames as soon as Arthur picks up the phone, “I hope the ibuprofen and Gatorade helped your hangover.”

 

“Eames?” Arthur’s stomach gives a lurch as he hears the accented deep voice. Only a little while before, he had been convinced that he would have nothing to do with Eames anymore. But now, somehow, he is talking to Eames again hardly twenty four hours after parting ways.

 

“Have you forgotten all about me already, love? You break my heart.”

 

Arthur glances around his study nervously as if someone might materialise there out of nowhere, Mikael maybe – or worse, _Eames_.

 

He remembers Eames had ‘returned’ his phone to him, which Arthur couldn’t possibly have ‘dropped’ and he keeps himself from commenting on the wily way in which Eames has stolen his phone number. Maybe he should really consider adding security to his phone. He has always ignored it as an added nuisance. He doesn’t have anything on his phone which he might need to hide. He can’t imagine anyone being interested in checking out his phone anyway.

 

“I haven’t forgotten you,” he says instead, his throat dry. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“Just enquiring after your wellbeing, love,” replies Eames smoothly. He sounds like he is moving around his house as he speaks. “I feel personally responsible for not stopping you from drinking dangerous cocktails.”

 

“Of all the things you did, _that’s_ what you’re worried about?” _Shit_ , Arthur hits himself mentally. “I mean – the cocktail – it wasn’t so bad.  I was fine after lunch.”

 

Eames doesn’t miss the opening. He is a smart man, smooth and quick. “Are there other things I should be worried about, love?” he asks, and Arthur can just imagine him leering. It makes his throat go dry, makes his stomach do a flip-flop as if he is a teenager. “Surely, if your lovely arse was much too worse for wear, dear Michael would have taken good care of it. Should I worry about your arse, pet?”

 

Arthur gets up to find some water.

 

“His name is Mikael,” he replies shortly. “And my ass is fine, thank you.”

 

“Is it, indeed? I could take very good care of your ass, Arthur, if _Mikael_ doesn’t feel up to the task.”

 

Arthur gets to the kitchen and fills up a glass of water. He has been on the receiving end of flirtations before and while he is game for something fun, by the time it gets as direct as Eames is, it is Arthur’s cue to point out that things are getting inappropriate. However, there is no room for declaring something is inappropriate to a man who has tossed his salad.

 

“You are more adept at hurting my ass than taking care of it.” Arthur chugs down the water, giving up all hope of their being any rational connection between his tongue and brain anymore.

 

Eames makes a sound of indignation. “I’m offended, pet, such a misjudgement of my abilities!”

 

“I judge by experience, Mr Eames.”

 

“And will you tell such bald-faced lies to the man who fucked you so good, you dissolved in tears of ecstasy?”

 

Arthur cannot help laughing out loud at that and leans against the kitchen counter. He is grinning from ear to ear and he can hear the blood pounding in his ears. “Alright, I will concede that I was too drunk to be an impartial judge of your abilities,” he says, butterflies in stomach. “Maybe I need another demonstration of these abilities of yours before I pronounce my final judgment.”

 

The heartbeat of silence on the other end makes his heart jump to his throat. _Oh shit_ , Arthur panics _, definitely, definitely the wrong thing to say_.

 

 “That’s a good idea, love,” Eames replies finally, although he sounds far less light-hearted than he has hitherto. “I agree. I will not stand this maligning of my unparalleled sexual skills.”

 

There might be a part of Arthur’s brain which is scandalised by the arrangement, screaming in protest. However, it has no access to Arthur’s vocal cords. So when Eames tells him that he should come over to examine his skills for himself, Arthur acquiesces and says that he will be there soon.


	4. Four

 

****

**_iv_ **

 

 

Arthur has second thoughts and third thoughts and he yells at himself mentally all the time on his way to Eames’ apartment. However, that doesn’t stop him from getting into his car, driving down to Eames’ apartment building and then taking the stairs up to the second floor because the elevator is out of order. His apprehensions grow even more because he is quite far from his posh neighbourhood and he worries briefly about his car getting jacked. But whatever is drawing him towards Eames is stronger than everything else and he doesn’t even have the excuse of alcohol this time.

 

“Arthur,” Eames greets him in a pair of grey shorts and a black beater, his tattoos peeking out from the edges. Even from a distance, he smells of shampoo and cologne and Arthur is sure he has taken the time to shower and shave while he waited for him to get there. “It is lovely to see you, darling. I admit that I did not expect to see you again so soon – this is a _very_ pleasant surprise.”

 

Arthur feels unnaturally self-conscious now that he is finally here. His brain screams yet again that he absolutely shouldn’t be here. _Think of Mike, think of Ariadne, would you ever be able to face anyone in your life knowing that you cheated on your boyfriend? It was completely different yesterday when Mike was there and he wanted you to do this. Now Mike isn’t here and he has no idea you’re doing this with Eames. Think of what he would feel. For God’s sake, what would_ Dom _say?_

 

“Yeah,” replies Arthur, walking inside Eames’ apartment as he steps aside for him. “I did not expect you to have picked up my phone when I dropped it at the bar.”

 

Eames chuckles as he closes the door behind him. Arthur looks around Eames’ apartment – studio apartment, he realises. It is crowded and messy and Arthur feels a little claustrophobic as he looks around. There’s a futon and a large open wardrobe at the furthest end. A light illuminates a long desk near the door, which takes up almost a fifth of the room, and Arthur can see two computers, a graphics tablet, pages and pages of sketches, and lots of stationery atop it. He almost stumbles over a pile of clothes as he takes a step forward and Eames holds him by the arm to steady him.

 

“Be careful there, love,” he says and Arthur turns to look at him. It isn’t what he expected but then, Arthur hadn’t had any concrete expectations to begin with – he just thought it would be a place smaller than his own given the address Eames had told him. He hadn’t expected Eames’ living space to be even smaller than the rooms he had kept during college.

 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your work,” Arthur says and glances over to his desk again, noticing the panelled drawings on some of the pages closer to him. “What are those? Comics?”

 

Eames cups Arthur’s face and makes him look at himself again. “I believe we had some plan other than a discussion of my work, darling.”

 

Arthur swallows as he looks into Eames’ eyes. They are more golden than blue in the shadows but he is as mesmerised by them as he was before. “But I’m not disturbing your work, yeah?” he asks, his voice cracking a little as he steps closer to Eames.

 

“You were already doing it when you weren’t here, pet,” says Eames and holds the side of his neck. “It is better if you’re here in person to do it.”

 

Arthur laughs a little and grasps Eames by his hair. He tugs his face closer and shuts his eyes as he brings their lips together. Eames kisses him back eagerly, pushes off his jacket and rubs and feels up his clothed torso before slipping his hands underneath to feel his bare skin. His hands are cool and rough against Arthur’s warm body. Arthur groans into the kiss and runs his fingers down Eames’ chest and arms before pulling back from the kiss. He takes off his shirt and pants and tosses them in the direction of the chair, too aroused to bother about his clothes for once.

 

“I jerked off thrice thinking about you all day,” says Eames as he moves Arthur back towards the futon.

 

They kiss again and Arthur feels all his worry and guilt dissipate as he presses his tongue against Eames’ and his fingers eagerly seek out the firm planes of his muscles. He rakes his nails through the hair on his chest when his hand is under the tight undershirt and sucks fiercely on his lips until Eames is stroking his back and sides and telling him to ‘ _slow down, pet, you have me all to yourself, all night_ ’.

 

When the back of his leg hits the futon, Arthur glances behind him and removes a couple of books and pens from it before falling back on top of the covers. This corner of the apartment is in shadows but the light from the desk is just enough for Arthur to make out the patterns of ink swirling into words and shapes on Eames’ skin. He watches as Eames hurriedly loses his shorts and beater, his thick cock already half hard in anticipation.

 

“You mustn’t have gotten any work done today with all that wanking,” says Arthur as he grasps Eames by his butt and pushes their cocks against each other. “Can you really get it up for a fourth time?” he says, teasing, the words hot against Eames’ lips, weaving their way between kisses and licks and playful biting. He squeezes and massages Eames’ tight ass and then slips a finger in the cleft, tracing a line down to his hole.

 

Eames has his hand on their cocks, thrusting his hips forward in a rhythm as he strokes and pumps their members together until they are completely erect. “Such condescension, Arthur,” says Eames, pointedly rubbing his erection over Arthur’s stomach and dragging it over the fold of his thigh before tracing Arthur’s aching sac with his head. “I hope you have no alcohol in your system now because I need to fuck all that scepticism out of you.”  


Arthur groans as Eames rubs his hard erection all over his groin but deliberately ignores his hard shaft. He tries to twist up his hips to make him touch his cock but Eames resists. “You’re such a tease,” he complains, presses his dry finger inside Eames’ hole and fucks him with a single finger a few times, making Eames grunt and wince because of the dry friction.

 

“And you’re a brat,” Eames hisses as Arthur pulls out his finger. He reaches to the side and picks out a tube of lubricant and condoms from the motley of things in a large bowl. Arthur watches as he drops them on the mattress next to his head.

 

Arthur kisses Eames’ lips once and then shifts out from underneath him. Curious, Eames lets him move out and follows him with his eyes. Arthur rubs his hands over Eames’ broad shoulders before pressing him down to the mattress. “Stay like that,” he tells him as he wets his finger. “If you let me do what I want, then I’ll let you fuck me as hard as you wish.”

 

“Darling,” Eames says hoarsely, lifting himself on an arm to turn his head and look at Arthur as he climbs on top of him, “you never warned me about your rape fantasies.”

 

Arthur has no smart rejoinder so he slaps Eames’ ass before moving to straddle his thighs. He had fantasised about it even as he had fucked Mikael last night. He holds apart Eames’ butt-cheeks as his wet finger slides in more easily into Eames’ hole this time. Eames curses and tries to lift up his hips but Arthur sits harder over his thighs, not letting him move. Eames’ muscles flex and bulge as he refrains from throwing Arthur off his body and Arthur grows even more aroused seeing that bulky body stretched out underneath him – _for him_. He soon works his way up to two fingers and then a third and Eames’ expletives grow more colourful as he pushes up his lower body so hard that Arthur almost loses balance.

 

“Stay still, Eames,” Arthur says as he squeezes Eames’ butt and digs his fingers inside him deeper, feeling up along his walls.

 

Eames responds with a loud groan, straight from his throat, as Arthur brushes over his prostate. Pleased, Arthur wastes no time abusing the spot and watches with gleaming hungry eyes as Eames writhes underneath him, trying to pull away from Arthur’s fingers and then again pushing back towards him because he wants more.

 

“You do sound like you’re being raped,” Arthur leans forward and speaks against Eames’ ear, making sure he hears every word despite his heavy groans. “But you also sound like you’re _not_ being raped because you’re enjoying it too much.”

 

Eames tells him to go fuck himself with his own cock in between choked moans and Arthur massages his prostate harder, a surge of smugness and pleasure soothing his nerves which have been strung taut with all of Eames’ innuendoes and smart words which he couldn’t respond to in kind.

 

When Arthur finally relents – pulls back his hand and climbs off Eames’ thighs – Eames slams him down on the bed and assaults his mouth ferociously. Arthur tries to laugh as Eames draws blood from his lower lip but the sound melts in Eames’ mouth as the latter shoves his tongue inside Arthur’s mouth, unrelenting and hot as he overpowers him completely. He won’t let Arthur even gasp for air and Arthur’s lungs are burning by the time Eames pulls away from his mauled mouth. Still, he keeps him pinned to the bed.

 

“You’re a downright bastard, aren’t you, darling?” Eames says as he looks at him, panting as he sucks in deep breaths, his rough voice burning Arthur’s nerves.

 

Arthur pulls up a leg and hooks it around Eames’ bulging arm so that his pelvis tilts up towards the other for easier access. “I also make up for it,” he replies, reaches down to touch Eames’ throbbing cock and cup his balls. “Come on, Eames, I’m here to mark you on your performance, remember?” He laughs as Eames pinches and twists one of his nipples.

 

“A downright bastard, alright,” repeats Eames as he rolls on a rubber and slathers it with lube, “those adorable dimples of yours are awfully deceptive, pet.”

 

Arthur grins harder at him. He is very much aware of the effect his prominent dimples have on people. He has learnt to abuse it well.

 

However, Eames moves in slow despite the feral look on his face. Arthur’s muscles are much more plaint than Eames’ since they have been stretched open just the night before and he relaxes them more easily as well. Arthur holds on to Eames’ shoulders as the head of his cock stretches him unbearably wide but soon, it gets more pleasurable and Arthur looks at Eames, holds his ears and tugs down his face, pleading for a kiss.

 

Eames gives in and kisses him gently this time, staying still as his length fills up Arthur’s lubricated passage and lets Arthur adjust himself to the feeling. He is holding up Arthur’s butt with one hand and he brings the other to caress Arthur’s face. Arthur’s chest feels tight as Eames rubs his fingertips over his cheek and cups his jaw as he kisses him over and over.

 

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Arthur breathes out against Eames’ lips and wraps an arm around his neck. His thigh trembles as Eames begins moving and his body flushes even more, his cheeks and neck flaming as Eames watches him with an unguarded, intense expression as he fucks him, going slow and deep. Arthur drops his arm to his side and Eames kisses him again before taking hold of his shoulder and pounding his ass with wild abandon.

 

Arthur’s body is all over-sensitised nerves and pleasure as Eames’s fucks him hard, his head rubbing and gliding over his prostate over and over. Arthur digs his nails into Eames’ forearm and begs him to slow down as his climax mounts but Eames takes it as his signal to only fuck him harder. He pins Arthur’s hands to his sides as Arthur tries to touch his cock and ignores Arthur’s choked appeals that he won’t be able to come without someone touching his hurting cock.

 

Eames is relentless. He slams into Arthur’s ass over and over until Arthur hits his orgasm with a scream, his body shuddering with shocks of pleasure before growing limp. Eames lets go of him as he spurts out the white liquid, and finishes him off with a few powerful strokes. Arthur’s walls clench around Eames’ cock and he draws him to a finish after a few more thrusts.

 

They are sweaty and hot as they lie spent next to each other, Eames half on top of Arthur as he falls to the futon face down.

 

After Arthur’s breathing is even again, he turns his head to the side and kisses Eames’ shoulder. Eames lifts his head and his gaze is dark as he looks at Arthur. Arthur cups his neck and pulls him in for a slow, lazy kiss. Eames is gentle with his lips but his grip on Arthur’s hip is painful. He looks at Arthur again and kisses a dimple before moving to lie on his back next to him.

 

A while later, Arthur presses to his side and puts an arm around his waist.

 

“Don’t you need to go home tonight?” asks Eames quietly, lying still.

 

Arthur raises his head and glances at Eames who has his eyes closed. “Is it inconvenient if I stay?” he asks, trying to read his face but it is impassive. He is as beautiful as ever and there is a thin sheen of sweat over his cheeks and nose but other than that, there is nothing that Arthur can learn. If he feels Arthur’s eyes on himself, he pretends to be oblivious. “It must be past midnight now.”

 

Eames grunts and shifts to make himself more comfortable on the futon. Arthur is not sure how he manages it because the futon is one of the most uncomfortable places on which he has ever laid down, just slightly better than the sleeping bags on rocks when he goes camping.

 

“Going to wake up in an hour – I’ll have the lights on when I work,” Eames answers without opening his eyes. “Just thought you might not enjoy that.”

 

Arthur scans his profile hard before pulling back his arm and turning to face the other side. “I’m too tired to move,” he replies and shuts his eyes.

 

Eames makes a sound which could be an acknowledgment or a snore but doesn’t seem to mind the distance between them as they lie, soon falling into a deep sleep. Arthur lies awake and pretends to be asleep when Eames’ alarm goes off and he gets out of the bed and moves to his desk. It is only after he has collapsed next to Arthur again, well after sunrise the next day, when Arthur slips out of the bed and leaves his apartment without a word.

 


	5. Five

 

 

**_v_ **

 

 

The week passes extremely slowly for Arthur without Mikael and Ariadne. By the time Mikael gets back from work in Tokyo, Arthur is already hurrying to get to his own office. They exchange some texts and sleepy video calls but Arthur feels even lonelier each time he talks to Mikael. Ariadne had been so excited about her trip with Dom that Arthur doesn’t want to disturb her time with Dom.

 

He throws himself into his work. Arthur manages Cobb’s architecture firm, which means while Dom and Mal work their jobs as architects, Arthur manages everything from getting them high profile jobs, negotiating payments, recruiting junior architects, keeping the company running despite Mal’s crazy expenditure demands and anything else Dom wants him to do, including babysitting Phillipa in the office when she just won’t go to the crèche.

 

It is a far more demanding job than it sounds because Dom and Mal have no idea how life works beyond architecture. Their office space had been on the verge of being shut down because they had put off signing the lease papers for months when Arthur had stepped in and saved the day. Dom had hired him on spot. Arthur hadn’t known what he would do with his odd college degrees (German, Egyptology, Organic Chemistry and Horticulture), so he had agreed. At first, he had imagined he would hang around till they found someone actually qualified to do the job. But then he got used to working there and they got used to working with him and no one really wanted things to change.

 

His schedule is especially busy this week because he has to recruit more architects to cope with the growing workload but every moment, he has to make a conscious effort to not let his thoughts stray towards Eames, who hasn’t called or messaged him again.

 

The guilt over cheating pains him but no more than it already had the morning after the threesome. He is aware of a stronger, more pressing urge to seek out Eames again and it makes him terribly restless. He thinks it will go away if he just gives himself time to get over the attraction and surrounds himself with friends. He even considers asking Mal out for a movie and dinner one night. But she intimidates him too much and he knows it isn’t Mal he wants to be wining and dining.

 

Arthur has had a sheltered upbringing and at twenty five, he can count the number of people he has slept with on one hand – less than five _including_ Mikael and Eames. He has always known that he preferred men but he had never understood how he should approach them. Ariadne has him labelled as ‘demisexual’ but Arthur doesn’t care for tags. He has standards. Sex with someone else is not so much a necessity as a form of communication. He doesn’t just sleep with _anyone_.

 

So if he slept with Eames, it meant a bloody lot to him.

 

Arthur is not foolish, though. He knows that what he feels isn’t how most other guys feel. If he lies alone in his bed at night and is bombarded by the images of Eames holding his face reverently as he kisses his lips over and over, he knows he might be the only one. He wants to believe that Eames had felt something more than animal passion for him – maybe he had. But Arthur hasn’t heard a word from him in two weeks now and he isn’t going to start believing in his fantasies like he is a frigging twelve year old.

 

So when, on the Friday night of his third week away from Eames, he ends up at Eames’ apartment again, he is bewildered by his own actions and his brain is having a meltdown because he can no longer predict or understand what he is about to do. His throat feels choked as he knocks on the door loudly; the doorbell is still out of order.

 

There are muffled voices and a thud from inside and Arthur’s stomach churns at the realisation that Eames has someone else in there with him.

 

 _This was a bad, bad, bad idea_ , he tells himself and steps away from the door, ready to run back down the four flights of stairs when the door opens and Eames comes out, naked except for a pair of grey shorts. His inked upper body, neatly delineated bulky muscles, fine smattering of dark body hair, the masculine smell of him – his sex and his cologne, and bright blue eyes are exactly how Arthur remembers them to be.

 

Eames seems taken aback at seeing Arthur there, which is reasonable given the fact that it is over an hour past midnight. He closes the door behind him as he steps out of his apartment. There are sounds of fighting and arguing coming from the apartment across the hallway and a baby is crying somewhere else Arthur cannot pinpoint.

 

“Arthur,” says Eames, rubbing his stubbly jaw, “this is a surprise. All’s right, love?” He aims for light-hearted but only manages a sort of puzzled wariness.

 

 _No, nothing is alright, you asshole_ , Arthur thinks, unduly mad at Eames. Blind white rage blanks out his mind and every muscle in his body is stiff with fury.

 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur replies shortly, stepping back further. “I didn’t think you’d have _company_.” Arthur isn’t a man who gives way to temper easily. Unlike Dom, Arthur doesn’t think that the world exists just to get on his nerves and persecute him. Arthur is a far, far more understanding man than this. Even on his way here, he had gone over a scenario in his head where Eames won’t be alone in his apartment. He had rehearsed a polite apology in that case but all of it seems like something that would be done in another universe by another Arthur. Right now, the only thing Arthur in this world is aware of is crazy anger which knows neither reason nor civility.

 

Eames raises a brow as he looks at him keenly. He is no longer trying to smile at him. Obviously, Arthur isn’t even worth the effort of charming flirtations anymore.

 

“I did not expect you to drop by, darling,” says Eames acidly. “You should have called me earlier if you meant to pay me a visit.” It is an absolutely reasonable expectation and Eames is a free man – _unlike Arthur_. However, it only fuels Arthur’s angry resentment which is terribly irrational and unwarranted but still the only thing Arthur is capable of feeling right now.

 

He scowls at Eames and curls his hands into fists. “I’ll be sure to book an appointment with you to get a place in your busy _fuck schedule_ , Mr Eames,” he snaps at him.

 

Eames’ expression grows harder and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why are you mad at me? Since when do I need to check in with you before I have someone over, Arthur? You are the committed man here, not me. We just fuck a couple of times over one weekend and you think you have a say in my personal life? Come on, Arthur, can’t you have a bit of fun without getting all emotional over it? You’re not that naive, I’m sure.”

 

It is the last straw. Arthur cannot bear to be shown the truth so blatantly. He breaks and punches Eames’ squarely in the face. The attack catches Eames unawares and he crashes back into the door, which falls open as he lands on his ass. A slim redheaded freckled man comes dashing towards him. He is naked except for a pair of glasses and Arthur is absurdly repulsed.

 

“Eames! Are you okay? Hey, what the hell? Who the fucking hell are you?” Arthur ignores the man who is looking at him in mixed anger and horror. However, he has his priorities straighter than Arthur and he is bent over Eames, checking his face instead of confronting a stranger. Eames glances up at Arthur as he presses the back of his hand to his nose from which blood has begun to trickle down.

 

“Fuck you,” Arthur chokes out, despite the overwhelming guilt he is engulfed in when he sees Eames on the floor, hurt because of him. “Fuck you, Eames,” he repeats and leaves.


	6. Six

 

**_vi_ **

 

Arthur hasn’t slept in two days but manages to make himself look presentable for his Sunday lunch with Ariadne. She has been acting strangely ever since she got back from her trip with Dom and had even cancelled their lunch the previous two Sundays on pretext of work. Arthur has, indeed, brought in a lot of interesting projects so perhaps her excuse was legitimate. Last night, she finally called him and told him that she wanted to go drinking the next afternoon rather than have lunch together. Arthur was fine with that.

 

After three shots of vodka, Ariadne reveals that she confessed her feelings to Dom on the last night of their trip together. He had been understanding and gone all kind and big brotherly on her. Arthur had suspected something of the sort. Dom has been behaving no differently than before. However, he has been careful not to spend too much time alone with Ariadne. It isn’t even anything noticeable. Arthur had just been watching him because of Ariadne’s behaviour.

 

“It couldn’t have been worse,” Ariadne chews on her lower lip, tearing a paper napkin to pieces. “I’m going to quit and I’m going to leave the city. I’m moving to Canada.”

 

Arthur studies the caramel popcorn on a plate between them before popping one into his mouth. “It’s not that bad, Ariadne,” he says and takes a sip of his martini. He is going easy on the booze. He feels nauseous due to lack of sleep. He doesn’t trust himself anymore – he is wary of what horrendous things he will do under influence. He should have deleted Eames’ number from his phone just in case he got the urge to do something even stupider than punching him but he hasn’t. Arthur feels pathetic and is disappointed in himself. The least he can do right now is to be a good friend to Ariadne. So, he tries to encourage her and placate her worries but it doesn’t seem to work.

 

“But it is bad,” insists Ariadne petulantly. “It’s _horrible_.”

 

Arthur thinks of the drop of blood forming at Eames’ nostril and then another and another and then a whole trail of blood dribbling down to his mouth. He puts down the popcorn he had picked up and looks at Ariadne. “It could have been worse. You could have blurted out your confession to Dom in the middle of your presentation and embarrassed yourself in front of the whole architecture academia elitists. You’d have to get a plastic surgery, change your name, fake your identity and then move to Canada – not even somewhere reasonable in Canada like Vancouver, but _Nunavut_.”

 

Ariadne wipes her lips and looks at Arthur carefully. “Did something happen, Arthur?” she asks.

 

Arthur finishes his drink and sits back, looking at Ariadne defiantly. “Nothing happened – I’m just saying it could have been worse. Dom isn’t being a dick about it, is he? Just give it time and you will get over it.”

 

Ariadne thinks over that one. “I’m not sure if that’s comforting or just tragic.”

 

Arthur squeezes her hand and buys her another round of drinks.

 

When he returns home that evening, cigarette butts litter the ground near the front door and Eames is sitting on the steps, smoking. Arthur doesn’t meet his eyes but is terribly self conscious as he steps past him and unlocks the door. Eames gets up and throws his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with the toe of his shoes, grinding hard into the ground for longer than necessary. His voice is ice cold when he speaks.

 

“Is this how it is going to be? You show up at my home out of nowhere, get mad at me for no reason and punch me in front of my own door. And now you’re going to pretend that I don’t exist, is that it?”

 

Arthur has been plagued with guilt over hitting Eames and the anger in Eames’ voice makes him want to bury himself alive. He stops fiddling with the lock, which has suddenly turned too complicated for his fumbling fingers. He turns slowly, and looks at a spot over Eames’ shoulder, too ashamed to meet his eyes.

 

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, feeling like the dirtiest scum on the planet. Arthur cannot remember feeling so horribly mortified over anything before. It had been more guilt than shame over the last two days when he had thought he had blown all his chances of ever seeing Eames ever again. That had been its own special brand of agony but Arthur had borne it because he felt he deserved it after doing something as low as hitting Eames. But now Eames is here and no apology seems adequate. “I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, dropping his gaze to the ground.

 

Eames snorts and thrusts one hand in his jeans, rummaging for more cigarettes but only coming up with a red BIC lighter. “And that fixes this?”

 

Arthur’s eyes flicker towards Eames’ swollen nose and cheek. “I’m really sorry, Eames.” He says, feeling sick at the sight of the damage he has done to his face. And then, “You should punch me,” because that seems like the only thing that will help his crime at this point.

 

Eames exhales heavily, exasperated, and plasters back his damp hair. “Wrong, Arthur, try again.”

 

Arthur lifts his eyes to Eames’ this time, feeling small and sordid. “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry. It won’t happen again – I wasn’t thinking. I’d never do something like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry I don’t know how to make up for it.”

 

A couple walking down the street glances towards them. Arthur opens the front door and lets Eames inside. It is warm inside the house but Arthur keeps his overcoat on. He folds his arms across his body and stands looking down at the floor, unable to face the anger and hurt in Eames eyes, unable to look at the bruised cheek and nose.

 

“Arthur,” says Eames, some of his characteristic patience returning to his voice, “I need to know you’re not going to pull a stunt like that again. What do you mean you weren’t thinking? How can you just do something like that and have no idea what you were doing?” he asks, leaning against a table. Arthur can feel his eyes on himself, digging holes in his face.

 

Arthur swallows hard. It is humiliating and it would indeed make him look like a naive ten year old. But Eames deserves an explanation no matter how stupid it will make Arthur look.

 

“I was jealous, I’m sorry,” he whispers, cheeks burning in shame. “I drove down to your place on an impulse – I missed you too much. And then I got stupidly jealous. You’re right. I was just being terribly juvenile. But I promise you, it won’t happen again. Even if you hadn’t come today, I had already decided I would never bother you again.”

 

Eames pushes away from the table and walks closer to Arthur. Arthur shrinks back.

 

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? You are appalled by the hovel I live in and run away the next morning without a word. I try to stay positive – maybe it is just the guilt you have over your boyfriend but you don’t contact me for two weeks. So I conclude it was just a one night stand for you. That’s fine. We’re adults and that’s absolutely fine. But suddenly, you show up at my door, fuming and act like I’ve wronged you somehow. Are you the only one with feelings, Arthur? What am I supposed to make of that? And if I hadn’t come here, you won’t even apologise to me even though you think it is alright to miss me and be jealous over me.”

 

Arthur grows hotter with every word, still ashamed but realising what a fool he has been. His gaze jerks up to meet Eames’. “That’s not what it is like!”

 

Eames looks at him snidely. “Then enlighten me, Arthur. What is it like?”

 

Arthur looks away again, mumbling the words when he answers. “You didn’t want me to stay over – you wanted me to leave in the middle of the night...”

 

“I thought your bloody boyfriend was waiting for you at home, Arthur! I didn’t want there to be a scene. How was I supposed to know he had gone to the other side of the world?” To Arthur’s puzzled look, he replies, “Dom Cobb – I asked you for his address and he happened to mention dear _Mikael_ was in Japan.”

 

Arthur swallows and forces himself to look at Eames. This is important and he wants Eames to know this even if it might not mean anything at all to him. “You should know... it isn’t just because Mike is in Japan. I didn’t come to you because he wasn’t there. I couldn’t have stayed away after that first time... I would have... regardless... It wasn’t for the thrill or anything... I really, really wanted to...” _I really, really wanted you_ , is what he means but his courage fails him.

 

Eames is silent as he thinks over Arthur’s confession. Arthur meets his gaze even if he has stuttered over half his words. He wants Eames to know he is for real. He might have behaved like a prepubescent brat but that isn’t him. But this, this thing which has been plaguing him ever since Eames first talked to him that night at the club, this is him. This is all him. And even if it means nothing to Eames, it means a lot to Arthur.

 

Eames sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes. “I understand that you have a boyfriend, Arthur. He likes a bit of fun in bed but I know I have nothing to expect from you. I couldn’t believe it was real when you showed up at my place – made me bloody happy. I wasn’t even too mad at you for running away like you did. I thought you were looking for a bit of fun on the side so I didn’t expect you to lose your shit like that.”

 

Arthur feels like his head is going to burst. “I told you, I’ll never... it won’t happen again, alright? I’m sorry. I’ll stay away. I won’t show up at your place ever again.”

 

“Bloody reassuring,” replies Eames, steps closer again and grasps the back of Arthur’s neck.

 

Arthur closes the distance between them and throws his arms around Eames, hugging him tight as Eames pulls him snug against his body. He has no words to describe his feelings anymore. The familiar smell of Eames is tinged with the sharp smell of tobacco but Arthur buries his face in Eames’ neck and inhales deeply. He imagines how much harder everything would have been if Mikael had been home. But staying away from Eames is physically painful in a way that makes everything else recede to the back of his head when he is near Eames. He whispers an apology against Eames’ skin and Eames hugs him tighter, kisses the top of his head.

 

“I’m the one with a decorated face and yet I feel like the bully, pet,” he murmurs as he rubs Arthur’s back. “I can’t give anything to you, Arthur, you know that, right? And you have a whole big life here – you can’t ditch any of it.”

 

Arthur pulls back just enough to look at Eames. “I would, Eames! I’ve thought about it long and hard. I’ve been thinking about it every moment since I left your place. I want you. I didn’t think you’d have me but I know now that things cannot go on like before, Eames. It scares me but I would give up everything for you.”

 

“You won’t,” says Eames quietly as he looks into his eyes, “because there is nothing waiting for you if you leave this life behind. I can’t focus on anything except making ends meet while I get my art out there. I can’t be there for you, pet, and I can’t take care of you like you deserve. You deserve this life you have here – a nice home with a good guy and your charming friends. I have nothing to offer, love.”

 

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” Arthur says angrily and tries to pull away from Eames but Eames holds on to him tighter. “Don’t you get it?” he looks at Eames in desperation as he stops resisting his hold on him. “I love you, Eames – _you_! I want to be with you! I thought it was hopeless, but it isn’t – so why are you making it so complicated? I don’t need anything from you – I just wish I could be with you!”

 

Eames kisses his cheek and massages the back of his neck trying to placate him. “It’s not just about what you need, Arthur. It’s what I’d want to give you if I stole you from this nice life you already got. But I have nothing to offer right now. And I really wish you won’t give up this amazing life you have just because of a mistake.”

 

“A mistake,” repeats Arthur, gritting his teeth.

 

Eames looks at him steadily and his hold on Arthur’s body grows painfully hard. “Yes, Arthur, a mistake, it was nothing more than a mistake. You know you love Mikael…”

 

“What do you think I feel for you then?” interrupts Arthur, his heart sinking.

 

“You cannot act on those feelings, Arthur. You cannot throw away your life. I’m sorry, love, I wish I could give you some happiness – God knows I want to, but I can’t.” Even though his voice trembles a little, Eames looks at Arthur as he speaks, lets him know that he means every word even if they are breaking his heart.

 

“So it was a mistake and now you regret it,” whispers Arthur and looks away from him.

 

“You know I don’t regret it, Arthur, don’t say that.” Eames tries to get Arthur to look at him but stops when Arthur resists hard.

 

Feeling a lump in his throat, Arthur presses his forehead to Eames’ shoulder. He hasn’t actually considered abandoning Mikael for Eames but then he didn’t even know that Eames felt something more than mere lust towards him. Oh, he had wished Eames loved him, too – but it seemed like a bleak probability. He had tried to think of ways to get over it because he was scared of losing his current life for nothing.

 

But now that he knows that he is not alone with these feelings, the words flow out of him thoughtlessly. He would give anything to hold onto Eames but Eames has extinguished the hope as soon as he gave it to Arthur. “So I’m just naive and emotional, after all,” he whispers, feeling pointless under the weight of feelings that seem to have no purpose other than complicating his life and isolating him from the happiness he knew before.

 

Eames runs his fingers through Arthur’s hair. “Don’t worry, love, you’re not alone there. I didn’t think I was the naive and emotional sort, either, but you’re really something, you know.”

 

Arthur shakes his head slightly and stares at the ground. “What’s the point?”

 

Eames is quiet for a long time. Arthur finally relents and turns his head to face him again and only then Eames responds to him.

 

“I don’t know, Arthur. I can’t answer all your questions. But I didn’t just come here to wring an apology from you – in fact, I wasn’t even looking for an apology but you’re delectable when you’re all devastated and remorseful.”

 

“You bastard,” whispers Arthur.

 

Eames gives him a little smile. Arthur cups his face gently on the good side and presses their lips together in a kiss.

 

Their love making afterwards is slow and sweet, a tender goodbye. Eames touches and kisses every inch of his body and Arthur is careful not to hurt his face where it is swollen. Arthur makes Eames lie back and drives him crazy with his mouth. He stops when Eames declares that he really is going to come down Arthur’s throat and then climbs on top of Eames. His ass is loose and receptive from all the fingering Eames subjected him to before and his filthy moans fill the room as he rides Eames’ cock. Eames watches him, mesmerised, and Arthur takes one of his hands and kisses and licks every finger, the palm and the back of it as he keeps riding him at an agonisingly slow pace.

 

Arthur holds off his own orgasm till he has made Eames come. Once Eames’ rubber is tied off and thrown aside, Arthur ruts against Eames’ stomach and comes all over his torso with the help of Eames’ hand. The kisses are cautious and slow because Eames has some swelling on his upper lip as well.

 

Eames comments on how hard Arthur punches as the latter is cleaning him up.

 

Arthur looks a little disconcerted as he gets into bed next to Eames. “I didn’t know I hit that hard,” he says, examining Eames’ face under the lamp. “I’m going to get you some ice.”

 

Eames restrains Arthur when he tries to leave. “I had some pills for it. Don’t move.”

 

“But the sooner you have ice on it...”

 

“Don’t move, pet,” insists Eames as he wraps his arm firmly around Arthur’s waist. “I will have all the time in the world to ice it later.”

 

 _But I only have this one night with you_ , goes unsaid.

 

Arthur turns off the lamp and drapes himself over Eames’ body. They make out carefully a few times and some time deep into the night, submerged in complete darkness, Arthur trails his fingers over Eames’ butt. He fingers his hole as he sucks him off again, swallowing his whole load this time. He can barely see what he is doing and it turns him on in a different way, heightening his sense of smell and taste. They feel up each other’s bodies carefully and then Eames insists on rimming Arthur even though Arthur is apprehensive about his injured face. With their eyes somewhat accustomed to the darkness, Eames then lets Arthur take his ass, his fingers leaving bruises on Arthur’s body as he holds onto him tightly all through it.

 

Eames takes a shower when it is six in the morning. Arthur joins him but it stays chaste despite of how intimately they clean each other’s bodies. Arthur traces his fingers over every tattoo and wishes that he knew the story behind each. Eames only smiles in response but doesn’t explain the history behind any of them. Perhaps it is better that way. It will only make it harder to let go afterwards.

 

Arthur watches Eames put on his clothes, himself staying in a pair of fresh boxers and a t-shirt.

 

“Don’t I get a kiss goodbye?” asks Eames with a roguish grin that must hurt his face.

 

Arthur traces Eames’ lips with his fingers before kissing him softly. “This isn’t goodbye,” he whispers and looks at Eames with an uncharacteristic fierceness.

 

“It _is_ goodbye, Arthur, because you must stay away from me,” says Eames, and Arthur is startled by how dejected and bitter he sounds.

 

 _You have no right_ , thinks Arthur, resentful, but doesn’t say it out loud. This isn’t the memory he wants to leave with Eames.

 

Instead, he kisses him again, harder and so passionate that Eames groans in pain and holds on to Arthur’s body to keep them steady.

 

“For as long as I can stay away from you,” whispers Arthur against Eames’ lips and licks his swollen upper lip before pulling away from him.

 

For once, Eames looks like he’s the one caught on the wrong foot. He nods, bemused, and leaves.

 

****

**_Finis_ **

**_(TBC in Part 2, Bad Attitude)_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for sticking with the story till the end! i'll upload part 2 asap.


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